Monster Mysteries
by SityGirl
Summary: One is a world traveler unafraid of anything. The other is the lord of the undead. One is a lost boy. The other is a wounded monster hiding in the shadows. What happens when an unexplained zing occurs. Slash, angst and just me trying to write. Rated M just to be sure. DraculaxJonny
1. Chapter 1

AN Disclaimer - I have no rights on any of it. Just playing with the characters.

This fic is AU, obviously. I just borrowed some of the characters and a picking of scenes. Also, I've watched the synchronized version of the cartoon so if there are any mistakes with names it's because of that.

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'I want this.'

'I _ want_ this.'

'I want _ this.'_

'...shit.'

'I can't even convince myself.'

With that last thought he stopped moving forward. His shoulders hunched further under the massive size of his beloved backpack. Not even her comforting weight could ease the clench that has taken residence in his chest and was making it hard to breathe. He rubbed the place on his chest where it hurt the most and ignored the fact that it coincided with the place where his heart ought to be. It just felt empty and achy.

He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the prickling he could feel behind his eyelids and forced himself to take another step across the barren floor. It was almost impossible to navigate the non existent trail between the shadows made by frail and withered trees so he tried to concentrate on that and not on the fact that there was nothing ghoulish or monsterish blocking his path away from the castle.

Just like _he _wanted it.

'Couldn't wait to get rid of me. '

And that thought made his breath hitch and he had to stop once more. Clenching the straps of his backpack in an almost painful grip he tried to get the grip on the emotions raging through him. For several long moments he was lost in his head. Fighting against the urge to just turn around and go back to...

...where he wasn't wanted.

And that thought hurt most of all.

What the hell was he even thinking?

Sure, there was that one time in Berlin during the pride week with that blond guy behind the plushie stall. But everyone was at least a bit gay that week.

And he's not. He's not gay.

Now, only if he could understand why being in _his_ arms felt like home, well, that would be just _awesome_.

He could almost taste the bitterness that thought left in his mouth.

But he's not. Really, he's not gay. Even if every time the Count touched him in any way he could feel his heart speed up and his breath decided to go all short and... gaspy. He's just _not._

Besides in the end it wouldn't have even matter. It doesn't matter. He's not wanted.

In any way, shape or form.

And the wrap around his heart clenches just a bit stronger stealing his breath away and making him blink that annoying prickling away.

He must be getting the flu. Or allergies.

Better to find some place to stay soon. He started off again. One foot in front of the other and not turning back towards the place where he wanted to be more than anything right now. Unwilling to acknowledge that thought beyond the whisp it already is he soldiered on, one step at the time.

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'Daddy.'

The count jerks away from the tall window where he was watching a lone figure make its way towards the dark forest and turns around to find Mavis standing there. Clutching a book and looking at him with watery eyes.

'He left.'

A plaintive cry is followed by a miserable sob and he steps forward to envelop her in his arms on pure instinct. She buries her head in the folds of his cape and he wraps his tall frame around her smaller one like he used to do when she was still a wee bloodsucker. He is grateful his hands know what to do as they act on instinct and slide up and down her shaking back in comfort because he can't be there for her in her sorrow without choking on his own.

His whole being is left feeling numb after seeing that slender frame, mostly obstructed by that horrible backpack, step out the door and out of their lives. And even though one detached part of him is murmuring soothing words in his daughter's raven hair the rest of him can't but relive that moment when he felt his heart break for the second time in his life.

He didn't even know it was possible. He's never heard of vampires falling in love more than once. There should have been only one 'zing' and that one belonged to Mavis' mother. He shouldn't… he can't…. he's not supposed to feel this overwhelming despair ever again.

It may have been over a century ago but he could still remember the darkness that swallowed his heart and mind, his whole being when he saw his wife just lying there amidst the flames. And that devouring darkness felt exactly the same and yet nothing like the feeling of absolute emptiness he felt when that boy stepped through the revolving doors and walked away from them. From him.

He hugs Mavis closer, buries his nose in her silky locks and takes a deep breath for comfort. His throat clenches when not even that eases the void in him.

He's a fool.

He's an old decaying fool for allowing himself to feel alive again.

To _feel_ again.

Getting caught in the web of someone so young. Developing _feelings_ for a _human_.

For that _child_.

He takes another deep breath as he whispers quiet promises of a better tomorrow in Mavis' ear not knowing who he was trying to console, her or himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi guys, thanks for the amazing reviews. I could use some help. Is there a nickname in the movie for Count Dracula? Since I've seen it in my own language all the names have been translated. So it's 'Grof Draklula' or 'Draki' and I can't really use those. Help?

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He lost all track of time as he aimlessly wondered around the countryside. He was stuck in his own head and he hated it. The thoughts were swirling and tripping over each other. Moments he didn't want to relive were coming unprompted to the forefront of his mind making him clench his hands around the straps and speed up, before he slowed down a couple of paces later caught yet in another painful memory.

He didn't even know where he was headed, but right now it just took to much effort to care. One foot in front of the other, that's all he could allow himself to think about without falling apart. He concentrated on feeling the breath in his lungs and the ache in his muscles that told him he was on road for several hours without looking at his watch. His eyes were locked on the road as his legs ate up the distance, not even looking around to see if he's cleared the haunted forest, but knowing he did from the strain in his back of carrying the backpack for too long. The sun was already high in the sky when he shook his head trying to chase away the memories and determinedly picked up his pace.

So fine, he wasn't wanted. It's not like it's the first time. If there is a lesson that has been forced on him repeatedly it's that he was undesirable. As a friend, as a boyfriend, even as a…son.

There must be something inherently wrong with him. Some sign over his head that flashed 'stay away' or 'no fun' or 'irrelevant' in neon letters that made people take one look at him and fuck off in the other direction.

He just wished it would have stopped hurting by now.

He chocked on as sob and wiped furiously on his stinging eyes. He's not going to cry over this, he's not. Because it's stupid. He was in this same position dozens, hell, hundreds of times, but… but somehow this one…this one rejection hurt more all the rest.

More than when he fell in love for the first time, with a girl from his school, and asked her out to their high school dance only to get laughed at in front of the whole schoolyard. Or the time he slept with someone for the first time only to get dumped the next day because she decided to go back to her ex boyfriend. Or any of dozen of times when he was politely, or less politely, rejected in some way.

He didn't know why or how, but his one somehow hurt even more than his mum telling him she was leaving his dad and him to pursue her career. And what turned out to be a bunch of younger guys he never met because she's decided she didn't need an anchor around her neck in the shape of a nine year old boy that still loved her despite her leaving. She'd stopped visiting when he was barely nine and he hasn't seen her since.

This burning, biting pain was somewhere up there with his dad marrying and starting a new family, the one that didn't need a sixteen year old Jonny hanging around and messing with their perfect family picture that was just big enough to hold a husband, a wife and 2.4 children, but not him. Never him.

He loved his stepsiblings even though it has been years since he's seen them and they probably didn't know he even existed. They were his family even though he was never theirs. His dad couldn't have gotten rid of him faster. As soon as Jackie was born he was shoving him out the door with an envelope in his hand that had just enough money for a measly train ride and a backpack on his back holding everything he ever owned. The backpack wasn't much, but at least it was his. That's how he was told to grow up and be a man.

At seventeen.

So he did the one thing he could, he left. And he hasn't looked back since. Hasn't even thought about his family for over a year, not since his nineteenth birthday really, when he finally came to terms with the fact this was it. He was unwanted and alone, he had no place to call his own and no home.

That last thought made him stop once more. Because he had had a home, for just a moment. In that bleak old castle, where for the first time in years he felt as if everyone saw him and not the smelly drifter he's become. A bitter laugh made it out of his throat and escaped in the biting air. Funny how the first time anyone saw him was when he was wearing more makeup than a kid on Halloween.

'Makeup... Count…'

He jolted and started off with a faster pace, cutting that thought off before it even had the opportunity to form.

He looks around for the first time since he left the castle noticing the fields surrounding him, peppered with sheep and willowy trees. He must be getting closer to the town. Well, he was still on the road so there wasn't much chance he'll miss it. Now he only had to decide on what to do once he gets there.

'I could grab a flight and go on to Greece. There shouldn't be that many tourists around at this time of the year. Maybe I could…'

And he trailed of. Do what? What am I supposed to do? Wonder aimlessly yet again?

And for how long? Months? Years? Until he was old and couldn't even lift his backpack?

What then?

He stopped again and wandered off the road to sit on a patch of fresh clean grass. He dumped the backpack near him and curled on himself hugging his knees and putting his head in the little space created by his arms. He clasped his arms by the elbows and tried to breathe through the irresistible need to sob his heart out.

Why isn't it enough anymore? It was before. Before, he was happy as long as there were new places to travel and new people to meet. He shifted, curling in on himself a bit more when he realised that the only reason the prospect of new people was appealing was because every new person was one more chance of finally finding someone to accept him. Somewhere to belong.

And that thought was just too much. Unable to hold in his sobs he gripped his knees tighter and, pressing his face into his jeans, wept as he tried to forget the feeling of belonging somewhere for the first time since he was six.

Being held in strong arms and hiding behind the tall form being shielded from the scary new realization monsters existed. Racing around on flying tables and laughing like mad, feeling a rush of adrenalin when those dark eyes looked in his direction and lit up with happiness.

Or what he thought was happiness. Must have been amusement at how stupid he looked. Blue and orange, like a popsicle. Running around like a crazy chicken and slamming into stuff. He's an idiot, of course everyone thought he was funny. He sobbed harder and hiccupped thinking of the way Count looked when he finally had enough of him.

It took a while before his sobs eased up and he was starting to feel his legs go numb from the cramped position as the tears finally slowed down and he felt like he could breathe again. Even if it was in short, painful gasps.

It took a while before his breathing evened out and all that was left behind was a tired numbness that told him he'll have to find a place to stay soon or sleep under some tree. He was almost too exhausted to continue, but he made himself get up and shoulder the backpack that seemed like it got even heavier than before.

His legs shook for the first few steps, but as soon as he was back on the road he picked up speed. His mind was thankfully numb and empty. He was just too tired to even feel sad and was twistedly grateful for that because that meant the chocking sadness was held at bay at least for a while.

The sun was already threatening to set when he finally spotted the high walls of a small town. Another half an hour and he was standing at the gates.

He gripped the straps of his backpack and set off in search for a bed and breakfast. He needed food and sleep. Not necessarily in that order. He knew as soon as he felt rested and less like every step could be the last one before he fell down the memories will come back with a vengeance. But like every other raw wound he could only hope this one will heal and scar over. With time, hopefully, it will turn in a twinge of hurt he will be able to feel only on rainy days.


	3. Chapter 3

AN

Please keep in mind while reading that I have seen the movie only once and it was a month ago and in my own language. So the characters will probably be ooc and some things will be off, write that off as an AU because it was meant that way even if not intentionally.

Thanks and hugs for anyone who's reviewed, especially those of you who've answered my question about the nickname. You're awesome, guys. Also constructive criticism is appreciated. Enjoy.

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Chapter 3

Count closes the door to his study and tiredly leans on them. That was the longest day of his life. And it was only half done. He scrubs a hand across his face trying to get his bearings.

He'd just spent two, _two _hours convincing that idiot cook that Jonny wasn't human and even if he was, he was way beyond their reach to make him tonight's dinner.

And then he wasted another _three _hours calming half the residents that had heard the rumour about the human roaming around. His head was starting to pound harder at the mere thought of what will happen when the rest of them finds out.

Monsters were nothing more then a bunch of gossipy hens.

He just felt so tired.

- So... human, hmm? - Drac jumped and screamed like a...well let's leave him with some dignity and say it was a sound of a high pitched bat and not a teenage girl.

Thought that's surely what it sounded like to the untrained ear like the one that the Invisible Man had. The same man that was currently occupying Count's chair.

– Well, my old friend, I can safely say I've known you for a long time and in all of that time… - he stands up from the chair, his glasses gaining height as the chair rolls away from the table.

- I have seen you mess around with a lot of creatures, both of the night and day, but never this particular one. - The glasses make their way around the table as Count watches on. - Have you truly sunk so low my friend?

Count can feel the muscles of his back bunch in defence, shifting against the unyielding surface of the door as his fists clench in instinct to fight against the perceived insult while he tries to keep his cool.

He knows there is no point in lying. For someone who was able to hide without trying to the Invisible Man could see through everyone else like a bloody mind reader. He can sense a lie from a hundred paces like a freaking lie detector.

_Must be all those years spent on the sidelines. Observing. _

Count closes his eyes just for a moment, forces his muscles to unbunch with inhuman strength of will, since this apparently unending day has drained him of most of his energy, and opening them, pushes away from the door and towards the vacated chair. He falls into it with less than his usual grace and stares at where the horn-rimed glasses are hovering some six feet off the floor to his right.

Like he's already said, Griff is one his oldest friends. There was no hiding from him either way. And anyway, he was just so tired. So he lets himself relax in a tired slump and lets Griff see exactly how much this day has taken a toll on him.

- Wow... _dammit_ Drac. I thought you were smarter then this. – Griff goes silent for a moment, just watching his old friend. And Count can almost visualize the procession of thoughts running through his head. - Drac... – he just keeps staring quietly at the place where he guesses Griff's head is, knowing everything will probably be answered by his exhausted features anyway.

- _Is_ the boy human?

Only quiet greets the careful question, but that's enough for Griff. - Shit, Drac. - And the glasses lose the altitude as his friend lowers himself in the visitor's chair – A human... I was just... I didn't mean what I said before... I saw you two together but I thought there was no way, but you really are, aren't you…

The Count feels too tired to even try to make a sense of the mess that's coming out of his friend's mouth. He slips lower in his chair and closes his eyes again as he rests his head on the backrest. He valiantly tries not to think of warm brown eyes and soft hair and even softer skin, that felt amazingly warm under his fingers as he covered it in blue paint.

But it's of no use.

Memories are all there, uninvited, good and bad. Torturing him and soothing him at the same time. All of them accentuated by the way that kind face looked the last time he saw it, as it'd crumbled at his harsh words.

He didn't mean any of the hurtful words and yet… it was as if he'd watched someone else, some other bastard, hurt the amazing boy that had taught him how to laugh again, how to feel alive even if he wasn't, and all of that in only few short days.

It was like he was watching from the sidelines, looking on and unable to stop himself as he ordered Jonny out of his castle and out of their lives. Watching his face crumple and fall. The brilliant eyes loosing their shine as they dimmed and shuttered, emotion in them dying away.

And it hurts all that more when he remembers that it was probably love shining in those warm eyes, love that wasn't aimed at him. Not meant for him. Never for him. Because, really, who could love an old undead husk of a monster like him.

And that thought just leaves him cold and empty.

He rubs at his tired eyes so hard he sees stars, trying to capture some sense and calm that seems to have left him along with the boy. Once he opens the bloodshot eyes Griff is still sitting on the other side of the table. Looking at him, presumably. The glasses seem to be aimed in his direction anyway. They sit in silence, there isn't much he can tell from just watching a pair of horn-rimmed glasses but he knows the path Griff's thoughts would have taken and it's only a matter of time before he asks the question Drac was too afraid to ask himself . They sit in silence for a while and he's starting to feel uncomfortable knowing what's coming just as Griff finally pushes the question out.

- Drac… I thought Martha was your…_zing_?

- I thought so too.

- Is it even possible…

- I don't know… I just, I don't know… - he hates how defeated he sounds. He hates how much this is getting to him and he hates that there are witnesses to this mess, to him coming apart like this, but it's not like he can change any of that. Jonny was gone and he just… he felt numb.

He'd held Mavis until she'd calmed enough for him to slip out of the room without too much guilt churning in his gut. He'd needed to take care of his castle, but he knows the real reason was that he was unable to look at his daughter's tear stained face for a moment longer. And know it was all his fault.

He can't even pretend he was doing it for her safety. He can't act like he's chased away the one person that'd made him feel something for the first time in years for some selfless reason when all he really wanted was to keep him away from Mavis so he doesn't have to see it. See them fall in love. See him belong to her, when all he wanted was to take the boy in his arms and whisk him away from everyone someplace far so there can be only the two of them. Somewhere where there is no one else to take Jonny's attention from him.

And he knows that those thoughts are like nothing that has passed through his head ever before. He knows his feelings are not something he should be feeling, so he sent the boy away.

Not for Mavis, but for himself. Because he knows that he would have hurt all of them eventually if the boy stayed. He can't really lie to himself that much and convince himself he would be all right seeing them together. Not when every time he even thinks of them standing there, kissing, on the roof, he feels like it wouldn't be impossible to hate his daughter just a bit.

And that is just… no.

So the boy had to go. For both of them.

But if Mavis felt even a part of this, or worse, felt more and harder. If Jonny was really his little girl's _zing_, if that was even possible then he had to… and he hadn't taken a breath in centuries but he still felt like he was choking on air when he tried to finish that thought. He felt like it was just too much. That mere slip of the thought of going after the boy and _giving _him to Mavis. Of watching them embrace and kiss and ride into the sunset together.

He put his head in his hands.

- What am I supposed to do…

- Well… - he jumps again, startled, forgetting he wasn't alone.

Griff would have been more insulted if he wasn't pretty sure the Count would have forgotten about him even if he looked like Frankie. - Human isn't so bad. I was just joking before, you know that. And maybe in time you could turn him and…

- He kissed Mavis. - Griff audibly swallowed whatever he was going to say next.

- He...

- Yeah. - And he'd never seen Drac look quite this lost. Not since… _oh hell_. – She's cried for hours, talking about soul mates and _zing_ and… I just… she's… and I can't… I don't even know what he's…

- Drac… you have to go after him. - Count sits up straighter. Exhaustion disappearing momentarily faced with the idea of hunting the boy down only to bring him back to Mavis and…

- Out of the question! – He starts rising and Griff knows he's counting on his imposing height to bring this discussion to a close but he isn't going to let that happen. That is a coward's way out and neither he nor his old friend fell into that category.

Though maybe this was just too painful for Drac to keep up the brave face. The same one he's been cultivating since that horrible night over a century ago. Maybe jumping off the cliff and going after it the second time when you knew exactly how bad it could maim you was even scarier.

He wouldn't know, but he won't let him just give up either.

- No, listen to me. - He waits for Drac to sit back in the chair and lose some of the glare before continuing. - I'm not saying this to hurt you, because you're obviously doing that amazingly well all on your own. - And he looks on as Count avoids looking in his direction and barely noticeably fidgets with his hands, but the movement is still there and seriously what. The. Hell.

The Count doesn't fidget. Ever.

This was just… shit…

_Tread carefully, Griff this is an emotional minefield of epic proportions just waiting to go off._ Griff takes a deep breath and plows through against his instincts telling him to back the fuck off.

- You _need_ to do this Drac, both for you and Mavis. I've never seen either of you act like this. And before you ask, no not even with you and Martha and I was there on that beach with you. - He watches on as that remainder sinks in. Watches as emotions chase one another over Count's unusually expressive face. All his usual barriers down. Griff hates it, hates hurting his friend even worse, but he has to ask. - I know we've never really talked about this, but are you completely sure you felt the _zing_ with Martha.

- I… - the Count squirms and still refuses to look in Griff's direction - I thought…_we _thought that it was…well, _it_.

And Drac flashes to memories of the beautiful vampire that he'd loved, of decades of getting to know each other after meeting on that beach. Of friendship and laughter and nights spent tangled with each other. There was plenty of love and passion, from both of them. But maybe time has taken its toll and memories were paling despite his will holding onto them with iron fists because he can't remember feeling quite this way.

He remembers the passion he felt for Martha, but it… it had never felt this consuming. It had never felt like the functioning of his whole being depended on whether the other was around or not. Like the day had lost all of its colour and went black and white just because the other wasn't there to laugh at his bad jokes or egg him on to have fun and do silly things that he'd never do on his own. Losing Martha was… it was horrible and worse than anything he'd felt that far, but…

No!

He can't do this.

It…no. Just no. How could he possibly look Mavis in the eye and tell her that Martha, her own mother wasn't the love of his life, his _zing_, but it was some human boy she was falling for herself.

Just…no.

- Drac… - he focuses back on Griff and tries to bring up some indignation at the calm and reasonable tone of his friend's voice, but he can't. A part of him wants, no _needs_ to hear this. Needs to be shown the fault in his thinking. Needs to be convinced otherwise and made to do what some small part of him knows, but refuses to admit is the right thing. – Drac, I've known you for centuries. I've known you before and I've been by your side since Mavis' birth. I _know_ how much you love your girl.

- I can't…- and his voice is raspy and pleading, but it's not enough to detour Griff from his best friend mission.

- Yes. Yes, you can. Drac you _have_ to… he can't be your and Mavis' _zing_ at the same time.

- But what if he's… - he looks at Griff, quietly pleading him to drop this but knowing his friend better than that.

- There are plenty of books in this old cave of yours that some of them will have a text on vampire bonds and undead soul mates. I'll take that and you'll take Frankie and bring the boy back.

- But he's…

- Human, yes I get it. We'll deal with that particular bump in the road when we get there. First, you have to get him back. - He takes a sharp breath at the miserable expression on his friend's face. There was no chance Martha was his real _zing_ if just the mention of the boy had this much effect on Drac, the brat was the one or he'll eat his own glasses. However, he can also see how Count will need some convincing.

But it's best if they take it one step at the time.

They have to find the boy and find out what's going on here or there will be nothing but misery all around. And he'll push Drac over that cliff when time comes if need be because seeing his friend laugh for the first time in over a century meant that he'd do anything to see it again, he'll even forgive the brat his bad life choice of being human.

- Let's go find your boy. – And a painful grimace is his only answer, but Drac is slowly getting up and following him to the door so Griff is grateful for the reluctant compliance. It is a beginning.

_We'll fix this my friend, I promise. And then maybe you'll let yourself be happy again._


	4. Chapter 4

Again, thanks for the reviews guys. It has been scientifically confirmed they make muses sing so you know what to do. :)

This one is short. And angsty. Enjoy.

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After passing through the main gates of the small town it had taken him only minutes to find something resembling a motel. Cheap enough to afford with the meagre sum of money he had left after not looking for work for weeks.

The airstrip that pretends to be a fully grown airport isn't that far away that he couldn't reach it before it became pitch dark, but it's so small that it's only opened several hours during the day. So in the end he had no choice but to book a room and spend a completely sleepless night in a barely furnished motel room.

He was lying on his back on the bed now, tired and restless at the same time. He was trying to avoid looking at his surroundings, because apparently all hotel rooms, no matter how dingy, will from now on remind him of _The_ Hotel.

Just great.

He tucks his hands behind his head and aims his unfocused gaze towards the cracked ceiling. He is exhausted and yet unable to sleep, the worst combination ever in his opinion. After spending an entire day on the road trying very hard _not_ to think of what he left behind, there wasn't a part of him that wasn't hurting. Literally and figuratively.

He'd spent entire day sliding up and down the emotional scale from numb to an emotional wreck and he just wants his brain to stop buzzing like a hornets nest for long enough to let him sleep. Apparently that wasn't happening any time soon. So he stares at the ceiling some more and allows the memories to come. At least if he breaks down crying again nobody will be able to see him here.

The first memory is the one from which there was no escaping. The one that's been hounding him more than all the others combined. It was more of a sensation than a memory really, but when he allows himself to remember, the emotions behind it almost overwhelm him.

That warmth comes first. The one from the happy feeling he experienced when he'd finally managed to break through the vampire's cold exterior and make Count chase him around the castle.

After that comes the flash of a memory, this sight of mischievous eyes on a somewhat startled face. As if the feeling of happiness had surprised the vampire. From what Jonny knew now, it probably had.

But what's worse, he then found himself wanting to be the one to keep on surprising him. In new and wonderful ways.

From the moment he'd stepped through that revolving door and came nose to nose with the tall, dark and terrifying he knew he was done for.

In the best way possible.

Even as he came to the terrifying realization of exactly who the creatures that surrounded him were, he still wasn't afraid of the darkest creature of them all. Later he'd realized that even frightened out of his mind in those first couple of moments he'd still hidden behind Count's cape, not afraid of the vampire. And that right there should have clued him in.

But no. Even while they were wondering through dark, damp corridors for hours, because those same monsters meant danger if they found out about what he was, instead of being afraid he'd never felt safer. He'd rambled on and on wanting to know more about the man trying to save him and wanting him to notice him in return.

He should have been afraid for his life like any sane person would be, but he felt safe and secure and, lets be honest there was no real reason for that to be so, he just did. He'd believed the Count would take care of him, keep him safe, catch him when he missed a step. And he did.

And he like a true idiot that he is mistook that for something else, something more.

He groans and closes his eyes. He feels so stupid beneath all the hurt, like one of those silly little ducklings that get attached to the first thing they see because they think it's their mamma.

And eww! Deleting that image immediately. He didn't think of Count as a father figure.

Oh, it would have been so much simpler if he did. In the end he would have probably felt equally hurt, but he'd realized a long time ago his issues weren't anyone's burden but his own.

But this…this feeling of not being wanted after falling for someone so completely…

At first he'd thought it was just a stupid crush. He'd had enough of those to last him a lifetime. Silly insignificant infatuations on people that are attractive or kind or sometimes just there.

And yes, he knows exactly how pathetic that sounds and he doesn't care. When you're a nobody, without anyone to care whether you live or die you develop a bad tendency to attach significance to the smallest things. A look… a touch… a kind word.

But it wasn't like that this time. At least it didn't feel insignificant. It felt…it felt…like coming home after not having anywhere to go for a long time. And that was the best way to describe it.

Being accepted and noticed. Being seen and heard. It was intoxicating. But despite all that, he'd found himself for the first time putting it all on the back burner. Yes, it was great to be taken into the fold like one of their own, but he found himself caring less and less about everyone else and focusing on one person.

The Count.

His look and his words meant more than anyone's before. His touch left Jonny feeling the tingles all over his body. And one of Count's rare smiles directed at him would leave him gasping for air as soon as the Count would look away. It was…it was everything he ever could have dreamed for and nothing he came close imagining even in his wildest fantasies.

And then the cold reality hit. Like it always did with him. It wasn't love, idiot. No mater how much he tried to convince himself that thistime he wasn't assigning meaning where there wasn't any, the cold facts of last night gave away the real truth.

Despite all the supposed experience he had so far accumulated he was still apparently an idiot. Nothing more than a foolish boy who's still looking for something that he never had and never will.

He turns on his side and blinks against the stinging sensation in his eyes. He curls in on himself and tries to even out his breathing, but nothing's working. Guess he's due for another breakdown.

Great.

He'll get over it. He will. He's familiar with the process by now. It will hurt like hell for a while. Burn like living fire in his chest every time he remembers the way the Count looked when he laughed for the first time. Like the amusement was ripped out of him against his better judgement. That first time he allowed a glimpse of the true person out, when he'd finally opened up to Jonny enough to see the man behind the ten foot walls of pure ice.

The thoughts were still whizzing around, but his eyelids were getting heavy. The past twenty four hours were finally catching up to him and his fears that the sleep was beyond his reach turned unfounded as he slipped into an exhausted sleep on top of the murky green covers of a rickety wooden bed.

He had no idea for how long he'd actually slept when a barrage of loud knocks reverberated on his hotel room doors shaking the wooden frame of the flimsy entrance. He stumbled, still dressed, from the bed. Finding his way across the room towards the door he blinked drowsily still caught in the web of sleep.

- All right, all right… 'm comin'… - several unstable steps and he was opening the door and suddenly the waking reality came hurtling back at the sight of the Count standing there with his hand poised to knock. Looking rumpled and exhausted just like Jonny. And… _what_?

- We need to talk. - Jonny looked stupidly as the tall vampire strode into the room, closing the doors behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry for the long wait, muses refuse to cooperate.

Also I've just realized that I can answer reviews individually so I was wondering, do other authors do that? Anyway, hugs and kisses to anyone who took time to leave a review.

Btw the story is unbeta-ed, but I'm doing my best to make it as flaw-free as I can.

Enjoy and review.

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The Count turns around from closing the door and realizes Jonny still hasn't moved. He flexes his hands, the treacherous little bastards that want to reach for the boy standing only a few agonizing inches away. He doesn't. He just stands there and drinks in the sight of him. Beautiful and oh so close.

Familiar head of unruly hair is wilder than ever. Strands on one side are sticking every which way and on the other side are flattened by the cushion. The boy's clothes are skewed and wrinkled beyond help like he slept in them. And the warm brown eyes are large and unblinking, staring at the Count like the link between what he was seeing and the boy's brain had been fried by the sight of him. All in all he looks lost and even younger than he already is and the sight shouldn't make warmth spill through Counts chest, but it does.

Drac doesn't move, towards him or away. He knows as soon as they start talking that that burning, _choking_ feeling will come back so he just steals this little pocket of time to look at his boy. It lasts for a couple /too short/ seconds more before Jonny blinks and that appears to be the signal his brain was looking for to start working again.

- Whu... – he blinks a couple more times like he's not sure that what he's seeing is what's actually happening. Apparently it takes some time for his sleepy brain to warm up. Jonny coughs like something is stuck in his throat and tries again with only slightly better results. - What... I... you…

Drac clenches and unclenches his hands. Trying to get himself under control while Jonny bumbles and tries to remind himself what he came here to do.

But for one endless moment his mind is empty of anything useful. It's just filled with silly romantic images of all the ways this evening could go. With them far away from the castle and everyone else, secluded here in this quiet room, and all the ways Jonny could be his skip through his head joined by the vivid feeling of the way that that lithe body would feel in his arms, with warm breath panting against his ear, _moaning_ against his neck and it's all just a bit too much because..._no_. He can't do that because…

'Mavis. I'm doing this for Mavis.'

He takes a deep breath because that's what you do when you need to fortify yourself, rather than out of actual necessity for air, and tries to remember some of the carefully planed words he came up on the drive over.

- I apologize. – And now the boy's blinking at him, confused. Drac clears his throat gathering shreds of his courage around himself and ploughing on. - I apologize for the way I reacted when… - and he can't say it, just can't utter the words or apologize for the blinding jealousy he felt come over him when he'd walked onto the roof and found them kissing. His daughter pressed up against the boy all of his body was telling him was his and to immediately walk over there and rip Mavis' grabby little hands from _his boy_ she had _no right_ touching.

He'd felt pulsating rage burn through his veins and left the second his brain caught up with the urges that threatened to tear him apart. He'd quickly turned on his heel and marched to his office.

That was where Jonny had found him minutes later, still fuming but at least outwardly calm. The boy had peaked around the door jamb all jittery and unsure. Talked about maybe overstaying his welcome all the while looking at Drac expectedly.

Right then Drac didn't know how to even process what he was feeling let alone deal with it so he took out his confusion on the boy. The words had started flowing out of his mouth, cruel thoughtless words with the sole aim to hurt the boy the way he's been hurt. And the Count had watched as with every painful word boy's face fell a little bit more and those brilliant eyes lost their shine. His shoulders had hunched lower and lower as Drac coldly elaborated just _how_ unwelcome the boy was.

And all the time parts of him were screaming at his mouth to just stop already. Stop moving, stop talking because he was hurting him, really hurting him. Hurting this amazing young creature whose only mistake was not wanting him back.

After he'd stopped spouting what some part of him registered as horrible things but the rest of him couldn't repeat a single word of if his life depended on it, his already painful heart had to watch as the boy slunk out of his office, eyes shining with something other than laughter this time.

He'd followed him out not sure what to say or do, his mind still telling him to stay quiet because the damage was done. So he did that and then watched as the boy picked up his backpack and walked out of the castle without looking back.

After that he didn't remember much. He has no idea for how long he sat at his desk after seeing Jonny leave through the revolving doors before he'd forced himself into some sort of action.

Even losing hours on placating his guests was better than stewing in his own heartbreak. The whole time he was circulating around the castle there was nothing in his head except this white noise that tried to stop the pain of being rejected from overwhelming him.

And now he's here and despite convincing himself that it's the right thing to do he's still unable to say anything. They just stare at each other.

Drac takes in every minute detail and frowns. There are tear tracks among the pillow creases on the boy's face and his eyes are rimmed red, but not from sleep.

'He's been crying' and at that thought something in his gut clenches and his mouth twists. 'No. _you've_ made him cry.'

That final thought and remembering the state he left Mavis in back at the castle are that last push he needs to fix this despite how much it's going to break him. He opens his mouth, not really knowing what will come out just that he _has _to fix this somehow.

But suddenly the choice is taken away from him as Jonny finally snaps out of whatever daze he's been in and between one blink and the next the Count is stumbling back into the hotel room doors and his hands are filled with warm wriggling body as the boy's lips cover his slightly open ones. And the brat must take that as an invitation because his small tongue is slipping in and _oh._

It's intoxicating. Warm. Soft.

Perfect.

He winds his arms around boy's thin waist and presses them chest to chest as his hands travel all over the arched back wanting everything, _needing_ everything. He doesn't know what is happening but he's not foolish enough to stop whatever it is. Every slide of tongue makes him burn from inside out until all reason leaves and there is just feel feel _feel._

'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-

For a couple of minutes Jonny's brain is blissfully empty. He gave up all the higher brain functions happily.

Actually he's still not entirely convinced this isn't a dream. 'Cause Count appearing at his doors in the middle of the night.

To _apologize_.

Yep, definite dream material.

Count kissing him back like he wants to suck out all the breath out of his body. Wet dream material.

So he just gives up thinking for a while. He slides closer and winds his arms around Counts neck, inching on his toes. The bastard is _tall_. And then he moans and melts when Count craftily sucks on his tongue and tugs on his hair directing his head this way and that for better access.

He moans around the crafty appendage and shifts his hips even closer and then he can feel the distinct shape brush against his crotch that sort of makes it all that more real suddenly. He jerks and arches away, still in the circle of the Count's strong arms that aren't letting go and that make his body want to melt into the hard planes of the tall man holding him. His thoughts are wiring, but one stands out and that's the omnipresent chant of 'Shit. Shit. Shit!'

He'd just launched himself at the man and _molested _him. He knows he should feel shocked or afraid for his life or just plain old confused, but his mind is scrambled and his body exhausted from the walking and the emotional ups and downs. And it's just been a long fucking day so excuse him if he's not firing on all cylinders.

They are still locked in the embrace because Count is reluctant to let him go which is…a surprise to Jonny, to say the least. He shifts a bit and…yep there it is. The sign of interest that is difficult to mistake for anything but…well, interest. He looks up and the Count is blinking at him, his pupils blown wide, lips bruised and once immaculate hair dishevelled as if someone's been running their hands through it.

'Oh, yeah… _me._'

It still feels more than surreal as he leans forward and Count doesn't push or shove him away yelling obscenities, but actually stares at Jonny's lips as he inches forward. Licking his own bruised ones like he can barely wait to taste something delicious.

Jonny closes the distance and shuts his eyes letting his other senses to rule. His head gets dizzy from the taste and feel of the Count, something he never thought he'll get the chance to taste or touch.

So he just lets go and lets the feelings drown everything else.

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Frankie has just finished one Angry birds game and was considering switching over to Tetris when the phone in his hand rang. He answered but before he could even say anything Grif's worried voice came over the line.

- Drac turn around and come back right now. Let Frankie bring the boy back. I'll send someone to pick you up. Do you hear me? Drac? Hello? – Frankie frowns, what the…

- Griff it's me, what the hell are you talkin' about?

- Where's Drac? - Griff's voice gets sharp with the undertone of fear beneath even Frankie can't miss.

- He went to talk to Jonny.

- How long has been gone Frankie?

- Don' know… maybe ten minutes.

- Go get him! Go get him _now_!

- Geez! What's got you bandages in a bunch…

- Just do it! Get them back and don't let them kiss or… just don't let them kiss.

- 'm going… 'm going… - he shuts off the phone which quiets Griff's angry rambling as he goes looking for the Count.

'Always somethin' with those two.'


	6. Chapter 6

Wow…just wow. Seriously guys I was just about to abandon this storyline and then so many amazing reviews and encouragements arrived and I just had to write more. I had an idea where I've wanted to go with this from the beginning so…let's see what you think…

Oh and a warning if you don't like cliffs don't read this chp. *grin*

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Jonny was on cloud nine.

His senses were buzzing and his mind was spinning. His entire world consisted only of Count.

Count's chest pressing up against his. His strong hands roving all over Jonny's back leaving fire in their wake. And those soft lips taking Jonny's for their own. The first slide of tongue against tongue makes his breath rush out in one sharp burst.

He moans and pushes forward though there is no forward to go anymore so he just presses them even closer.

Trying to make one out of two.

And then the world shakes and rocks and he breaks from the kiss because he needs to breathe, but Count just takes that opportunity to taste more of Jonny. So he trails the path down Jonny's jaw and to his throat where he latches on, sucking, and Jonny can't help the whimpers he issues, ready to jump back into the fray, but then the world shakes again and this time the shakes manage to get translated in Jonny's hazy mind to harsh knocks against the door they are still leaning on.

- Wha... - just then Count finds a place behind his ear that makes Jonny's knees buckle so he holds on for dear life as he tries to figure out why Frankie is on the other side of his hotel room doors yelling bloody murder. - Wait... what... we...

- Drac! Dammit Drac open the bloody doors. Drac!

And all the time Count is proving his true nature by sucking on Jonny's neck so hard Jonny is this far from forgetting everything else and just rutting against the man. But Frankie isn't going anywhere and if Jonny's brain was functioning properly he would have found it a bit worrying that Count was more focused on his earlobe than on his friend bringing down the house.

Or well the hotel door.

But his brain was turned to mush so when he wriggles in Drac's hold and the man just follows his movements with his own body, aligning them in all the right places, Jonny feels his knees go week and almost forgets all about Frankie.

- Drac! Open the doors. Jonny! Come on!

- Drac we have to... Drac... - Jonny tries to gently push him away but stops when there is a warning growl coming from somewhere in the vicinity of his collar bone. He swallows hard. - Ok apparently no moving away. Ok...ok I can work with that. I'll just... - he slowly turns them around so his back is the one facing the door. But the door knob is still to far away and Frankie's knocks are about to bring not only the house down but also some form of local law enforcement.

He twists this way and that and his cheeks go crimson as he feels Count's hands slip beneath his hoodie. This makes Count emit a pleased sound as his long fingers encounter warm skin. Jonny uses the distraction this provides to turn in his arms and valiantly tries to ignore the warm feelings pooling in his groin as he pulls open the door. Frankie is indeed on the other side. Looking like he's about to face the firing squad.

- Oh shit... - his eyes go wide as he takes in the scene in front of him - Griff's gonna kill me.

Jonny can feel his cheeks burn as he imagines what the two of them must look like.

And Drac isn't helping any as his hand keeps exploring that thin strip of Jonny's skin between his jeans and the undershirt that somehow got untucked. His mouth is still travelling along Jonny's neck in a pattern that makes no sense for Jonny but each new mark he makes with it seems to be followed by something Jonny's sure would be called a purr in anyone else. He's usually not the talkative sort, but this is starting to get weird even from him.

Hmmm maybe this is what happens when a vampire gets ummm… _aroused_. He can feel himself flush even worse at that thought and he forces himself to focus on Frankie. Who is still gaping at them.

- Yeah... um... as you can see we're um... kinda busy. - Frankie stares at the scene apparently unused to see his friend in this state. Honestly, Jonny is kind of starting to wonder about Drac's state himself.

- You kissed?

- Um... yeah... ohmygosh... - Jonny squeaks and jumps like electrified. One sly hand has just slipped under the waist of his pants and that was just _not happening_.

...well at least not while there's an audience. Maybe later if…

- Did he just try to... - Frankie looks completely bewildered at what he's witnessing.

- Yeah... - Jonny mumbles as he grabs Count's hand and pulls it out. The Count doesn't seem to be perturbed at the action and the wicked hand just drifts in further exploration.

Luckily all above board this time.

No less mortifying however.

- Right... - Frankie swallows and finally forces himself to look away. - Right. Well... um you shouldn't have...um kissed that is. You shouldn't have done that.

- What? Why? - Frankie shrugs, turning a rather interesting shade of blue as Jonny redirects yet another inappropriate touch. This time he keeps Count's hand in his and looks at the long, elegant fingers.

And his own small stumpy ones wrapped around them.

He was an idiot thinking something could possibly go right for him once.

- This isn't a normal reaction, is it? - and he threads their fingers together as he feels Drac bury his nose in Jonny's mess of a hair which makes a lead weight settle in his middle. Jonny can feel his breathing speed up as he fights an oncoming wave of sadness.

He should have known Count's response wasn't normal. He would have never kissed Jonny back under normal circumstances. He swallows and tries to ready himself for what he has to do.

- Very well. - and he pushes himself away from the warm embrace, but Count latches on and produces a growl that makes Jonny jerk around to try and get a better look at him.

The man's eyes are pools of darkness. More than it should have been in normal circumstances.

- Drac? – His only answer is a weird questioning sound somewhere between a growl and mewl. - Shit. I really _have _broken you. Shit shitshit.

He turns back to Frankie who is looking equally lost while staring everywhere but them. - What do we do? _What do we_ _do_?

- I... um... I don't know... Griff said to bring him back... I guess...

- Ok, ok...means Griff probably knows what's going on... ok... just... just let me get my backpack... - and this time the process of extraction goes just as well as the previous two. - Just... Frankie could you get it please, I'll...

- Car is in the front... - Jonny sighs and resigns himself to being Drac's squishy toy for now.

- Come on... - he leads the way to the car and somehow rearranges them both so they fit in the backseat.

With him in the Count's lap.

It's not really helping with cooling things off down south but at least there is no skin on skin… and yeah there goes the hand.

He wiggles and shifts until the hand is in the safe zone and works on blocking any further advances as Frankie drives them to the castle.

Purposefully not looking in the rearview mirror even once.

The shuffle is repeated once they get to the castle and Jonny feels fear grip his insides as he sees a pair of glasses waiting for them at the front entrance.

This is all his fault.

Idiot.

He should have gone straight to the airport and not linger around like an abandoned puppy. He could have slept there and been on the first flight out but instead he's causing trouble everywhere he goes. He should accept that already and stop hoping for something better.

He wishes he could see Griff's face to know exactly how much he screwed up this time, but he can't so he just leads Count to his friend and stands there quietly staring at the ground as Drac wraps his arms around his waist from behind and snuffles at his hair.

- I'm sorry… - he doesn't know how to continue. At this point he's just sorry for existing. For being alive and messing up their lives by just being himself. He stares at the ground as he waits for the yelling and the accusations.

- Not your fault kid. - He looks up, startled. He can hear Griff sigh and even though he can't see it is sounds more like exhaustion and less like anger. - Wish I could smack you for being an idiot and thinking that for even a moment, but something tells me Drac would rip my head off if I try it. So I'll just say it again. Not. Your. Fault.

- But…I... – but it was, wasn't it? If he never came Count would have been all right. There would be no fighting and running around…

- There would also be no fun… - _Did he say that last part out loud_? But Griff's already talking before he can let the embarrassment set in properly. - And trust me when I say this. Count, for the past century, no fun.

- Martha… - he has mixed feeling every time he thinks about Drac's wife.

It's mostly sadness and unfounded jealousy that churn in his gut.

- Yeah…

- And now… I'm… what? - He needs to know this. He has hopes and he has fears and the distance between those two is so huge he could easily get lost in it if it's not spanned by answers that will stop his heart trying to escape through his mouth.

- This isn't the place for that discussion. Let's just… - and the glasses turn and Jonny follows them inside, Drac following closely behind him. Jonny finds himself stealing small bits of comfort from the man's presence even though that terrified part of him is telling him to stop and that it will only hurt more once that comfort is ripped away from him.

He follows Griff into the library and further to the large wooden table completely covered by book.

Really old books.

Ancient looking texts that look a strong breeze away from crumpling to dust.

- You should sit down. - and Jonny glances at the sofa as he remembers what sitting entailed in the car over and thinks he'd rather not have a boner for this conversation.

- No thanks… I… it's fine like this… um… - Jonny can't see it but it looks like Griff shrugged before he dropped the subject and the glasses turned away from them before the pages started to turn apparently on their own.

And that's never gonna be not weird.

With Griff's back turned away from them he allows himself a moment of comfort. He leans into Count letting the tall man take some of his weight. Count makes a pleased murmur and lets out a breath that stirs the hair behind Jonny's left ear. Jonny closes his eyes and lets himself just relax for a second.

It all feels so surreal. Everything.

From the moment he'd followed what he believed were stunt men into the underground garage… everything stopped feeling real and at the same time became so much more than real. He feels like these past few days were a vivid dream, but he knows he could never dream up something this scary and amazing at the same time.

He covers the Count's arms with his own and tries to find the words to shape the feeling coursing through him. Trying to overwhelm him.

- I'm so sorry… - in the end that's all he has. - I never meant… I never wanted to hurt… any of you… or cause trouble… - he can feel the now more than familiar pinpricks behind his eyelids. – I...

- Stop that. - He jumps as if burned. He'd forgotten Griff was still there with them. He tries to straighten up, but Count will have none of that. And if a pair of glasses could look both amused and disproving all at the same time Griff's were the ones to do it. - It's not your fault. _Any _of it.

- Yes, well... - he clears his throat and waves in the general direction of his middle where Count's arms are still linked, not easing up at all. - What is _it_ actually?

- Oh well that's… that's a long story…

- I've got nothing but time Griff.

- Well, it all started a long, long time ago… or better to say ended…

'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-

- A what?

- A power transference or no that's not exactly… - Griff shuffles several more pages this way and that - it's more like a balancing of power. Yes that's it. You know, it happens to a couple when... - Jonny can't see it but he can imagine Griff waving around, plucking words from mid air trying to explain millennia of monster history to the idiot boy in front of him.

Wait… a what?

- A couple?

- Yes. You know…a mated couple. - Jonny's mouth fall open in shock and he can feel his brain grinding to a halt. _Wha…?_

- A mate…but, but…no...That's...that's impossible…I've seen the book…Mavis showed me… vampires have one mate… and I… - and all the time he can feel himself ramble he is plucking at Count's unyielding arms trying to move them because the comfort has started to turn into something stifling, but his frantic movements are more or less useless because he isn't really thinking about it.

And the Count isn't letting go.

His head is filled with _something's wrong. Griff's wrong. It's wrong wrong wrong. He knew that. He knew and he still hoped and they don't know… so why is he telling him that… no…_

- Is that why you kissed Mavis? - A whispered question from Griff stills Jonny's movements more effectively than a shout would have.

He can't do anything but stare in Griff's direction.

- How… - his voice comes out raspy and he coughs as he rushes into an explanation. Because _no_. If he did everything else wrong he won't let this be one of those things. - I _didn't!_ She showed me that book and I…

…and what? I was so surprised once I realized just how _hopeless_ my little crush was, just moments after realizing it wasn't either little or anything simple as a _crush_, that I never noticed her leaning in. - …she kissed _me_. I pushed her away. I wasn't… I would never… - Jonny cuts himself as he feels Drac squeeze him harder and speak for the first time since they've kissed.

- Martha wasn't my mate… - a whisper that leaves him stunned for a moment before he is a flurry of action. Twisting in Count's arms and turning around to face him as he ignores Griff's sardonic '_how nice of you to join us_' directed at Drac.

He cups Drac's face and examines his eyes.

- You're back. I thought I… - and Drac's lips curl into a soft smile as his head dips slowly.

But before they can kiss a sharp 'NO!' snaps them back and away.

And then suddenly Griff is there between them pushing them away from each other. Successfully detangling them for the first time in who knows how long.

- No. I'm not waiting for another forever as you too idiots cool off. You… - he points at Jonny and then at the short sofa - there. You… - and this time Count is directed, in the same manner, to a desk chair at the safe distance from Jonny.

Jonny sits calmly and watches as Drac drags his feet to the chair, throwing confused glances at him and slightly more resentful ones at Griff. But he sits and they both wait in silence for Griff to continue.

And if they spend a bit more time staring at each other then at Griff while he talks. Well... it's not like there is anything to see there anyway right.


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry for the long wait guys I really tried but it just wouldn't happen any sooner. Thank you for sticking it out and all reviews are cherished, polished and placed on a special shelf. Enjoy.

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Seconds pass and Count slowly feels the all encompassing fog recede from his muddled brain leaving behind a sudden awareness that's immediately followed by a sinking feeling.

And a single condemning thought.

_What have I done?_

He grips the armrests to keep himself from bolting out of the chair and across the room. He barely keeps his body in check from doing as it wants. His eyes are a different story however and they seemed to be attached to the disheveled boy fidgeting on the sofa. As Griff rifles through dusty tomes looking for whatever, Drac finds himself unable to tear his gaze away from Jonny.

The boy is still sitting in the same place, but his knees are bouncing and his hands are tightly wrapped around each other in his lap. He appears nervous and like he wants to be anywhere else but here.

He is distinctly not looking in Count's direction.

The sight makes Count's heart clench and his hands twitch in the boy's direction. He's aching with the need to hold him, to keep him close.

_Too far_ his heart tells him as everything else in him screams to go over there because not having the boy in his arms feels wrongwrong_wrong_.

All the while painfully aware of the fact that if the boy were to run now Count wouldn't be able to find the courage to go after him the second time.

He grips the chair harder, feeling the ancient wood creak under his fingers, just to keep himself from bolting over there and kissing the hell out of Jonny. He holds back so he doesn't succumb to the burning desire to bury his hands in those disheveled locks as he claims Jonny's lips once more.

And this time he wouldn't let go, Griff or no Griff.

But he can't because Jonny is huddled on the sofa. His hands are still strangling each other in his lap and his shoulders are pulled tight. He is trying to appear smaller and Count's middle clenches at the defeated curve of his boy's back.

_What have I done!_

And then an even worse thought occurs to him, the one that makes fire burn in his chest. The one that makes him grit his teeth and close his eyes at the overwhelming evidence.

_Is he _afraid_ of me? _

He leaves his eyes closed for a moment at the damning feelings that that unwelcome thought causes. His thoughts are clearer now but his memories are still fuzzy.

Behind the flimsy protection of the closed eyelids he tries to remember what happened in greater detail, but it's no use. Since the moment they had touched in that hotel room everything has lost coherency and all that is left behind are the short flashes of sensation.

The slide of lips on lips. Puff of a warm breath on his cheek. The sound of a beating heart, speeding up with every touch of his cold fingers. The fleeting memory of the feeling of silky smooth skin of the boy's abdomen that even now makes Count's middle stir with sudden arousal. He squashes it mercilessly and plows on through the few memories that he has left. And suddenly his eyes flow open as the last shred of memory clears up.

The warmth of a living body wriggling in his arms and the boy's struggle to get out of his hold.

He can feel wood creaking in protest under his hands and he stares unseeingly in the distance as a sick feeling courses through him at the memory of Jonny trying to get away. He remembers fragile hands pushing on his arm. Ineffective and weak against Counts hold.

Now that he remembered it, those few foggy moments keep replying in his mind with a terrible clarity. He shivers with the revulsion at the mere idea of forcing himself on his boy in any way. Unable to look in Jonny's direction anymore, he stares at the dusty books lining the walls.

_No wonder he's not looking at me. He must be terrified. I _did_ that. I made him _fear_ me. _

Dracula. The _monster_.

Just as he is drowning in disgust at his own actions a voice breaks through.

- Drac! - Count jerks at the sudden intrusion in the never-ending loop of seeing Jonny tug on his arms trying to get away.

He looks where Griff's glasses are floating a few inches from Drac's face, but then his eyes slide to Jonny of their own will. The boy is finally looking at him and if Count weren't so out of it he would have said the look on his lovely face was concern.

His brain scoffs at him calling him a fool for even thinking it.

- I... - he croaks, clears his throat and tries again, still looking at Jonny. - I'm sorry. – It's not nearly enough but it's a start. It seems like all he does is apologize to this boy, but he has already accepted the fact that he would spend eternity doing so for just a shred of forgiveness and a kind look from those warm brown eyes.

He braces himself, expecting some sort of reaction, revulsion or derision. Anything, except the quiet confusion he gets. He knows the boy heard him since the distance between them isn't that large, despite what Count's instincts are screaming at him. But Jonny just looks confused, blinking in Drac's direction, knees finally motionless in the wake of Counts statement. His brow furrows and Count can see he is considering the apology. What he is not expecting is the confused - What for? - aimed at him.

Griff makes a disdainful sound at that and returns to his books, mumbling under his breath. If Drac were paying attention he might have been offended at being called 'idiot' by his closest and dearest friend, but all his attention is on his boy.

He swallows hard and waves his hand, motioning to all of Jonny, unsure where to start.

- For... for making you... for forcing you to... - he's not sure how to say it, words getting lodged in his throat.

Jonny frowns harder and looks down at his clothes before looking up.

- Wha... - his brow furrows and Count sees the moment he gets it. He starts waving his hands. - No. No no no. You didn't! - the denial ends in a shout and Drac startles in surprise which in turn makes Jonny flinch and calm down. But makes his protest quieter though no less vehement. - You didn't… I wanted you to… - The last couple of words travel on a whisper and once the statement registers Drac is left blinking in confusion.

- You did? - And he has the pleasure of seeing the red stain the boy's cheeks.

- Don't you remember? - Drac shakes his head, because what he does remember he'd rather not. - I kissed you first… - Jonny is tugging on the hem of his shirt and no longer looking at him as Count tries to wrap his head around this new information.

Jonny kissed _him_. He kissed him _first_.

But then why does he remember…

- But you... you tried to escape? I remember you pushing me away. - And the boy blushes harder. Apparently unable to look at Drac as he stares somewhere to the side.

- Well, yeah… I practically jumped you. - He quickly glances at Drac. - I thought I broke you. - Drac finally captures his gaze and holds it in place. The boy is still fidgeting and blushing but there is no deception in his gaze.

He is not trying to placate the scary monster. He really _did_ kiss him first.

Drac can feel the warmth course through his chest, the clenching feeling is almost gone, leaving behind a sort of fluttery lightness.

Jonny kissed _him_.

Some of the emotions must have bled through Drac's habitual mask because Jonny is shyly smiling at him and Drac can feel a corner of his lips twitching in response.

- All right that's enough of that. - Griff's voice makes them both start and turn towards the table. The boy mumbles some sort of apology and starts fiddling with his shirt as he stares at his lap yet again.

Drac could strangle Griff for interrupting. He won't, but he really wants to. At this point the only thing that's stopping him is the fact that Griff is their ticket to a speedy solution to whatever is happening.

Once he can kiss his boy without fuzziness clouding all his senses it will all be worth it.

So he quietly waits for Griff to finally begin and takes in his fill of the beautiful creature across the room in the meantime. He even feels a sliver of hope curl in his chest as he remembers the boy's words.

If Jonny wants him and, even more importantly, if he's willing to be his, then Drac will do whatever it takes to make it happen.

He can feel his mind bubbling over with clichés and finds himself comparing Jonny to a ray of light after centuries of dark. It's such a human idea but there is no escaping it. This sudden emerging of his romantic side makes him almost revolt at the mere notion of becoming soft, but he cant deny that it is exactly how this feels. this feeling of lightness that envelops him whenever his boy is near that feels exactly like feeling alive after centuries of merely existing.

He snaps himself out of it when he hears Griff starting up again.

- I've already told Jonny but I guess since you were pretty out if we'll go over the important parts again... - Drac holds back a growl at the condescending tone. Barely.

He knows Griff is doing him a favor here but he could try being a little less obnoxious about it.

- Just get on with it. - And he glances back at Jonny to find the boy's whole focus on Griff.

That makes another growl almost make its way past his lips, this one more possessive in nature. He swallows it, because while Jonny might want him, and that thought makes his head spin, there is still some fear that the boy might change his mind if he saw how much of Count was actually monster-like despite his humanoid looks.

He focuses back on Griff and tries to ignore that particular fear for now so he doesn't miss on the explanation for the second time.

- Let me start at the beginning. A long time ago...

- Griff... - this time a little growliness bleeds through masked as impatience. He shoots a quick look in Jonny's direction to se if it bothered him but it doesn't seem like it did. The boy's only reaction is the return of the flush to his cheeks and a certain glassines in his eyes.

As he catches Count looking he quickly crosses one leg over the other and looks back at Griff.

_Is he uncomfortable after all?_

- Drac. - He turns his attention back to Griff, his brows still furred in worry. Griff sounds softer when he sees his friend's confounded expression. - I'll be short but I have to tell it the way it needs to be told.

Drac just nods and settles in, his eyes wandering towards the boy every now and then. And every time their eyes meet Jonny flushes and looks back at Griff making worry and warmth mingle in Count's chest as he tries to concentrate on what Griff's saying.

- Very well. So let's see... it all started a long time ago. Before Middle Ages.

'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-

Once upon a time... all good stories start that way, so did this one.

Once upon a time humans and monsters had lived in peace. This time is also known as the time when mythology was born. It's when all those stories about magnificent beings were written by, you know, the actual people that knew them.

Today it's a long forgotten fact that humans and monsters have coexisted for thousands of years. Much longer than they have been enemies.

This harmony had lasted all the way up to middle ages when humans turned against them. Today no one really knows what or who started the enmity but suddenly the witches were being prosecuted and no monster was safe.

But before those horrible times on which we shall not dwell, there were peaceful times where monsters and humans had lived alongside one another. Some even _zinged_.

It wasn't that often for to find a soul mate is truly a rare thing. To find it in someone so fundamentally different was an even rarer one.

But on those few occasion it did happened the process was vastly different than the _zing_ occurring between monsters.

Humans possessed no significant magic of their own. They were vulnerable, easily hurt and influenced.

But they were also intoxicating to their monster mates without feeling the same level of compulsion of securing the bond. A human could easily refuse the bonding for whatever reason leaving the pining monster to it's own devices.

On the other hand a besotted monster could take what he wanted leaving human with no way of controlling the courtship.

So therein comes the balance.

'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-

- I don't understand. - Griff losses a there-you-go stance and he sags at Jonny's statement.

Drac nods to show his agreement and some of the stiffness leaves Jonny's shoulders as he smiles at Drac's support. Griff removes his glasses and they wave through the air as he supposedly rubs the bridge of his nose and asks, exasperated.

- What? Which part?

- Um the balance part… - Drac jumps in when Jonny trails off.

- I understand that that was what happened to us. - And he sees Jonny nodding in the periphery so he keeps on going. - But what does it _mean_?

- Oh, well… - and the glasses are back in their rightful place. – It means no touching until the bond is in place.

- What? – the two voices trip over each other and Drac finds himself staring at Jonny's flushed face wondering which one he is protesting, the no touching or the bond.


	8. Chapter 8

Cliff ahead, sorry guys my muses come up to a point in the story and then say enough and just shut down. I can maybe stop posting until it all comes out, but I figure the feedback makes them write so here you go.

Reviews make authors happy. Even is it's just to say hi we like to know we're being read. :)

Enjoy. :)

'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-

After blurting 'what' Jonny felt like he was frozen in place. Staring at Count with wide eyes as Count stared back.

'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-

He didn't really understand most of what Griff had talked about. He had tried to follow, he really did but his thoughts were running in dozen different directions and none of them were focused in the there and then.

Half of them were stuck on the past several hours. On the unforgettable and mesmerizing feel of Count's hands around him. Count's mouth on him. Welcoming warmth enveloping him. Warmth he couldn't remember feeling ever before.

He'd used most of his energy trying not to drown in those thoughts while Griff talked.

Several thought trails were dedicated to the way Count looked seated in that chair across from him, a mix of relaxed and predatory as he looked at Jonny. They were surrounded by flickering candles that made Count's features appear all that more exquisite and otherworldly. Making Jonny feel that much more earthy and insignificant.

Also a thought he tried to ignore.

It was helped somewhat by the way Count couldn't seem to take his eyes off of him. When he'd realized that, Jonny had felt a dizzying rush of embarrassment at being under such close observation followed closely by delight at being the focus of Count's attention. He was still unable to look back feeling like he'd burst into flames if he did, so he turned to his thoughts, still barely listening to Griff.

One of the two remaining thought trails was fixated on that throaty little growl Count had produced moments ago, the one that made unexpected heat pool in Jonny's belly and arousal return full force.

One thought trail was dedicated to making sure Count didn't notice his reaction.

The last vestiges of reason left to him were just enough to catch on the tidbits from Griff's explanation. And what he was getting was making him feel worse every moment Griff kept on talking.

Was it his fault then?

Was he the one making Count act like that?

He stole a quick glance towards the man but just as quickly looked away when he saw him looking back and found himself unable to bear that intense stare.

He could feel his cheeks starting to burn.

'He's looking at me like he wants to eat me alive.'

He takes a moment to think over that particular thought and feels his face burn even more when he realizes just how much he wouldn't mind Count devouring him like _that_. And then immediately feels mortified at the path his thoughts seem to be taking. He couldn't remember the last time he thought about _those _things this much. It like his mind went head first into gutter without notifying the rest of him, unless it was through uncomfortable body reactions.

He slumps lower in his seat and tries to avoid looking at Count if at all possible, unsure of how much of his thoughts are obvious he tries to concentrate on Griff. He succeeds somewhat, enough to catch on the more salient facts of Griff's speech just as he starts to wind down.

What he gets from it doesn't make him feel any better and feels worse with every recounting of the ways humans _make_ monsters bend to their will.

He feels horrified.

'So I _am_ the one doing this to him.'

He's not sure how to feel about making Count nonsensical with... with what actually? How _was_ he doing this really?

- I don't understand. - has escaped before he has the time to stop his mouth by actually connecting it to the brain, but then it's all right because Drac is there to ask the question to cover for Jonny's slip. He smiles at the warmth that stirs in his chest and almost doesn't hear Griff talking about _touching_ and _bonding. _

_Almost._

He's glad only 'what' made it out of his mouth this time instead of the 'what the fuck' that he was actually thinking.

And now he's just sitting here, eyes wide and jaw slack, he knows he's staring at Count but he can't seem to stop himself. He's ardently wishing he could read the man's mind because his own is a whirlwind of half formed panicky questions none of which he's brave enough to ask.

Touching? There will be more touching?

And his heart and body crow in delight at that thought, but the happy feelings are followed by his brain screaming at him about bonding and what does that mean? And does Griff even know what he's talking about? And what about Martha? And Mavis? And... And he can feel a head ache coming so he closes his eyes. Hoping that maybe the spinning feeling will stop if he does.

It doesn't.

- Jonny? - he opens them again because it's Count and he sounds worried and Jonny can't really handle making him sound like _that_ on top of everything else. He looks at the Count and sees the worry in the sharp lines of the man's face. He looks like he's moments from jumping out of the chair and...doing what?

Jonny doesn't know the answer and senses even more embarrassment lies that way so he just waves his hand hoping to dissipate some of the worry with it.

- I'm fine. It's fine. I just... - he licks his lips. His mouth is suddenly drier than after a week long trek through desert he did a year ago. It's nerves, he knows, but can't really take in the why. - Let's see... um let's see if I get this. - He clears his throat and his eyes skip from Count's once more stony expression to Griff non existent one. - We're um.. - He coughs and clears his throat once more, this time making his eyes settle on Count. - We're... _mates_?

Jonny looks on as Count stares back at him and he can feel the sweat collect on the palms of his hands and in the hollow of his back. He swallows a couple of times as Count searches for something in his face. Jonny has no idea what that something might be, but he must find it because he _nods_.

Jonny blinks.

He knows he's being slow, unintentionally, but still slow. He should have known, if not from the moment their eyes connected for that first, fateful moment then from everything Griff has said and Count has done. But it's still difficult to let himself believe when only hours ago he felt his heart breaking beyond anything he's ever felt before.

...and then he feels a sharp pain as he remembers all those things Count said.

He lowers his eyes and fixes them on his lap. He doesn't know how to feel. It sounds like it should be simple. They are mates, _soul_ mates, they belong together. Then why...

- You... - he hates the way his voice cracks and the way he can't seem to look up at the Count. He's brave just enough to ask the question and no more so he tries to blurt it out. - but you said you didn't... you sent me away and you said that... all those things about not belonging... not wanting me to stay, wanting me far away from here... - he swallows around his emotions and forces his eyes up.

He's not prepared for what greets him there.

Count looks crushed.

Jonny takes a couple of quick breaths, trying to slow down the suddenly too fast beating of his hopeful heart. He clenches his hands as he looks at the Count. The man opens his mouth a couple of times with false starts. Jonny doesn't dare to hope that this is Count looking remorseful. He chokes it all down just as Count says.

- I had just walked in on you kissing Mavis. I thought you were... hers. It... - Jonny is so far gone he doesn't realize he's almost stopped breathing as he waits for Count to go on. And Count looks just sad as he continues, trying to force what he felt into words that will mean something. - I wasn't expecting the hurt I felt when I saw you two. It... It broke me.

His voice drops until it ends on an almost whisper. The tone makes Jonny start, he blinks and starts breathing again. That barely there feeling of hope blossoming unattended in his chest. He feels like smiling, but Count still looks like he doesn't know what Jonny'll do, so Jonny calms his first and second instinctual reactions and tries to put them in words. He takes a deep breath and starts, knowing he'll have to repeat himself, but wanting to make sure Count understood.

- She kissed me. She'd just shown me this book where it talks about _zings_… about them being only one... - And he can feel a bit of hope receding as he says that. He twists his hands, but can't stop himself from asking. - Are you... are you sure Martha wasn't... - and he hasn't even finished before Count is shaking his head.

- No, she wasn't, but I _have_ loved her. – at that Jonny feels a little sting of what he _knows _is unfounded jealousy, but Count is looking at him like he can see what's going through Jonny's mind so he tries to keep anything from showing. He knows he's unsuccessful as Count shakes his head as if to shake away Jonny's doubts and keeps talking.

- You don't actually have anything to compare it to. The _zing._ It is supposed to be this big thing that you feel in every part of your being. But... I have been on earth for a while then, we both have, and I think we've stopped believing in it by then. What we had felt real. It _was_ real. - Jonny clenches his hands again as he sees past shadows cross over the reflective darkness of Count's eyes. He wants to go there and comfort him. He stays where he is by sheer force of will.

His mind knows that Count will always feel something for Martha, he loved her and she gave him Mavis. It doesn't mean that Count will feel differently for him. Even if he is still trying to convince himself the man felt anything at all.

The Count's words ease the jealous constriction around his heart a bit and make him almost smile. He knows that as long as he can claim some of Count's heart for his own he's willing to leave a part of it for _her_.

He focuses back on Count's deep rumbling voice as he goes on.

- But... the moment I met you. The moment you walked in through that revolving door… I realized I have been so very, very wrong. - Count is looking at him, piercing him with a stare that is both hopeful and scared. And Jonny feels like he forgot how to breathe at those words.

It takes a second to break through to Jonny, but then Jonny feels floored all over when he takes in the Count's expression and a light goes off in his head as he realizes that Count is afraid of rejection.

Of _Jonny_ rejecting him.

Jonny can feel his heartbeat going wild in his chest and he is flooded with emotions it'll take days to sort out. So he just draws in a gulp of air and then he lets it out and feels a grin curl around the exhalation. He smiles at Count and lets all the emotions show in his eyes, because while he might not know what to do with them perhaps Count will.

And he does.

Count looks stunned for a moment, but then his mouth relax in a smile. His face looks somewhat unaccustomed to it, but it's okay. Jonny will help him get in the practice.

And then it hits him again.

He can stay.

He can stay here, with Count, with these people, these lovable monsters. He can have a home.

He can have Count.

He can _stay_.

'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-

Count coughs but not even that can wipe away the smile. He knows he looks like a right fool grinning at the boy, but he doesn't care because he finally knows the boy can be his.

He was an idiot, he knows. And he'll apologize for that, later. Over and over again.

For being a blind fool.

For saying those horrible words.

His heart skips a bit at the next thought…

For making his boy cry.

He'll apologize until there isn't a shadow of doubt in those warm brown eyes of being wanted. .

Desired.

_Needed_

But before all that they have to get bonded. And fast. He needs to be able to touch his boy.

Soon.

He turns towards Griff that has remained blissfully silent through the entire exchange and asks.

- What now?


End file.
